


Brimstone and Boomerangs

by Sharpandtothepoint



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Blink And You Miss It Slash, Body Horror, F/M, Going to Hell, Gore, Hell, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpandtothepoint/pseuds/Sharpandtothepoint
Summary: Yes I know there is a special place for me in hell.It's called a Throne.





	1. Chapter 1

The bullets hit him harder then he remembered, he had been shot before but the impact was stronger maybe because he was older and softer. 

Cold... it was starting to get cold...

DAD! 

"Owen?" He saw a shape fly by him then a dark shadow.   
Was he on the floor? When... when did he fall?

It was getting so cold...

"Get it out, please get it out" Someone sobbed.

Oh... no that shape he'd seen that shape...

Batman? Why...why was Batman here? 

Cold, it was so...cold but not as cold as his heart was.

Owen poor Owen.

He had just found his son again, had so much to tell him and now he'd...

Flashes of images flew through his mind: Meloni and their wedding against a purple sky constellations that were totally alien to earth, Owen being born reddishwhite and slimy but still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, holding him for the first time his skin soft and dewy.

His rare greenish-gold eyes that Digger loved so much.

Melonis heartbroken face as she sent them back to the 21st century.

Sam and his clever smile.   
Giving Owen up for adoption...

"Sorry...so...sorry" he whispered.  
Then he was gone. 

Though neather of the greaving men in the room heard or noticed.

 

Boiling... it was boiling and he couldn't breathe the godawful heat was everywhere it was red, horrible dark red.

'What? What happened?'

He could see light flickering above him kicking his legs and pumping his arms with everything he had...the pain was horrible he just had to get out.

GetoutgetoutgetoutGETOUT!

Finally breaching the surface with a gasp he started swimming to the edge he could see fire and others thrashing in the corner of his eye. 

What felt like an eternity he made it, grabbing the edge and frantically pulling himself out crawling a short distance away from the edge gasping and wheezing blinking the red water out of his eyes Digger got a sudden good look at his hands. 

He could see bone and what little muscle was left, It was as if the flesh had been melted off or boiled...

Heart thudding in his ears fear rising to terror he slowly looked back at the water he climbed out of.

Phlegethon the boiling river of blood.

Chaos wasn't a strong enough word to describe the horror.

Humans couldn't speak the language that could anyway.

Dark fires flared up on the edges of the river as lava like blood bubbled and exploded without rhythm, rapid boiling bubbles burst and the poor bastards in the river shrieked, wailed and screamed as they boiled swaths of skin dragged along the with the current.

Then the assault on his senses began, the horrific sounds of billions of people being tortured, the people screaming as they fell from the blackened sky some landing in the river others landing on the sharp stalagmites howling and they slid down clutching at their ruined guts,the crunching of bones, the ripping of flesh, the smell of rancid blood and shit and gore filled the air like a nauseating miasma, the sticky blood glued to his skin and the neverending volcanic heat.

His hands were healed now, you healed fast here if only so you could be tortured more.

He knew where he was.  
He had been here before.

"Hello Georgie Porgie Pie" 

Whipping around in shock George laid eyes on someone he never thought he'd see again.

Samuel Joseph Scudder.

"Welcome back to hell".


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're going through hell, keep going. - Winston Churchill

George gaped.

Sam Scudder.

In hell.

Bloody Hell. 

"We better move Boomy"- suddenly he grabs him by the wrist and pulls him along. 

Good thing too, the area they were standing was suddenly impacted with dozens of arrows each as long as George was tall and the shaft spined.

Holy Crap.

"Move!"

As they ran George saw chaos everywhere, people fighting each other and the demons that guarded the dammed. Bodies whole and not were strewn everywhere. The noise,the heat, the carnage. 

God.

It looked like a war zone out of nightmares. 

"George! Grab a weapon anything!" Sam roared over the noise.  
Spying a long handled mace he grabbed it quickly-  
Unfortunately not quick enough as a truly fiendish growl froze him to the spot as a pit fiend rose from the behind the bolder that it had been crouching. 

"Oh... oh shit". He whimpered.

"Well, well, well I remember you, one of the souls that Neron fooled, heh you were a fit little cockroach then weren't you hmm Georgie?" It's eyes gleamed with promised malice, his terrified reflection looked back at him.  
"Now you're a fat little cockroach, a fat, old little cockroach that was terrified of a cockroach demon. They ripped his head off you know he pleaded and it was amusing"- The fiend suddenly backhanded him into a spiky stagmite the spike going through his spine and gut.

"Argggg!"

Crackling and caressing the side of his face with a claw "Let's scream louder Georgie"-

"Eargggggah!"

The pit fiend dropped and black blood spurted from its legs as they were severed at the knees.

Panting with effort Sam lifted the sword and brought it down on the creatures neck, then a second time to sever its head spraying himself with blood head to chest.

Whimpering George tried to pull himself from spike.

"G-god that hurts"  
Sam hurriedly grabbed his arms and helped pull him free.

"Come on we need to get out of this area".

Wheezing and clutching his gut he followed Sam but not before he kicked the pit fiends head off into the bloody frey.

Heh headball.

After running and dodging more large crowds of fighting and tag teaming the single demons and devils they came across, in no time both were covered in head to toe in gore.

They finally, finally found a semi-hidden alcove. A moment's rest hopefully.  
Painting hands on knees gulping in the rancid air, then mindful of the grasping and flaing clawed hands reaching through the walls, George looked at Sam properly for the first time since getting here. 

He looked young but then he had died at 29.  
The brown hair that even now covered in gore looked so effortless, the blue eyes that glinted with a cleverness that if the time had been right would sent his blood straight to his groin.

His clever, wicked smile.

Still in his mirror master suit, even covered in blood and gore he still looked so princely.

He... he had missed him so much it hurt.

Sams eyes softened,  
"I missed you too George."

 

Eyes widening he had not ment to state that out loud, clearing his throat to mask his embarrassment he asked,

"Were are we? Hell yes but where in hell."

Sam scaning to hall before looking at Digger "The seventh level of hell, the burning plane, the violent, suicidal and the sodomites reside here."

"Oh... us then."

Grimacing Sam continued "so I don't know if you remember but there has been some changes around here, if you noticed the fighting and the demons" -nodding Diggers time with Neron had been brief but horrible but not to this level-  
"Lords of hell have declared a free for all everyone's fighting for the Crown of hell."

"What?!"

"Yes... if we kill the king we become the king. Keep what you kill." 

Huh...interesting.

"How long have you been fighting before I landed here Sam?"  
"Since Neron died I... was just another soul paying for my sins before this all happened." He got a far off sad look on his face.

"Just paying for being what I am."

Oh Samuel...

Hesitantly George reached out and grasped his hand giving it a squeeze.

"Your not...not unnatural Sammy. It's not your fault you were born the way you are love."

Sam stared at him eyes glittering and a small watery smile on his lips, he returned the squeeze then blinking rapidly he continued-

"Time is different here though for all we know it's been one day after you died."  
His sharp eyes narrowing at the din echoing down the hallway- 

"We need to go down to the lowest level to get to purgatory or we kill the king and rule"-

"Well... where are the others, Roscoe and Lisa?" Digger interrupted 

"The other Rogues? I don't know."

Sudden shrieking startled both souls as a a large group of demons and human souls ripped, clawed and tore at each other filling the corridor with alarming speed.

Glancing at each other Sam and Digger turned and fled.

"That the plan Sam?!" Digger yelled over the din, - I say we go down mate!"

"I agree ruling is over rated!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not believing in hell doesn't lower the temperature down there one degree." - Neil T. Anderson

Going down was a stupid fucking idea.

This level of hell was horrible but Sam knew that when he had landed in the third circle of this place for the sin against nature: sodomy.

Burning rains, burning sands, wandering around without rest tripping over people who were forced to lay in the sand to burn more easily in the fiery rain.

He had been one of the...ghouls wandering around burning...always burning, when the call of the free for all went out.   
They were freed.

Well...Free to fight for the Crown of hell anyway.

He lunged violently away from the centaur that was trying to split him in half, rolling to avoid the nasty hooves trying to stomp him.

'Fine. Yes he was gay. Yes he had gay sex but never had he forced anyone to do anything and never once had the sex been violent.' 

Pay attention to where you're going.

'It's not like he hadn't tryed to be normal, to have sex with a woman he had been very drunk but even then he couldn't...!'

The wet crunch as a razor studded hoof went through his chest stopped his train of thought immediately.

Eyes bulging in shock and shrieking in agony he tried to free himself clawing at the lower leg of the beast, sword forgotten in his panic and pain.

The beast lifted its foot up then promptly stomped back down causing the back of his head to crack again the ground.   
Vision swimming and feeling like he was going to die(again) he wished for the thousands time that he had his mirror gun.

Fwp! Fwp! Fwp! Fwp!

The centaur let out a whiny like scream as all four of it legs were sliced off, its body looked like a large burnt sausage with a wailing torso.

"Oi Sammy look what I found!" Digger crowed gleefully.

'Oh thank whoever created Boomerangs and whoever introduced them to Digger.'

Loping off the centaurs head as casually as you please he scuttled over to Sam, grabbed the top of the severed leg placed a booted foot on Sams chest paused then said " No joke this is going to hurt like fuck for a second" then ripped him free.

"Yargh!"  
"Sorry love"

Gasping and gagging at the pain as Digger kept a look out Sams mind merciful blanked. 

'Poor bloke passed out.' Grimacing Digger lifted Sam up and over his shoulders in a firemans carry and hurried away from the area.

Mindful of traps and large scale attacks he picked his way down, down, down till he got to a leveled out area that was quite.

Too quiet.

Eyeing the area carefully Digger padded over to a area that was sheltered, he placed Sam down glancing at the gaping hole in his chest cringing at the veins slowly slithering back into place over muscle and fat.

Time in hell had toughed his gut thankfully. He would have vomited for sure before.

Glancing around for any thing that may see them and feeling secure that nothing was there Digger allowed his face to soften then he placed a kiss on Samuels forehead.

"I love you, you wimpy shelia." He whispered to him.

"Love? Are you sure George Harkness?" 

Long beautiful fingers slid over his shoulders the stiletto sharped nails pearl white followed by perfect elegant hands sliding across his chest and belly.

He had heard Superman yell at Batman once and had to fight the urge to crawl out of his own skin and hide in a hole.  
The man of steel in his anger had been terrifying. 

Lips kissed his ear like a lover ready to whisper a secret "Love is a battlefield George" a body pressed close to his, white wings radiant in their form flared out on eather side of him.

Though the voice was powder soft the feeling of hearing it spoken was similar to the feeling you get when listening to the apprehension engine.

The stuff of nightmares.

The nails suddenly dug into his chest and proceeded to crack Diggers ribcage open.

"Witness the carnage."


End file.
